Return of The Masque
by Oracion Seven
Summary: As Gino's powers as The Masque return to him, madness slowly begins to rear its ugly head, along with two new rivals, The Gemini and Alucard. Who are they and how can Gino defeat them? Yaoi, EdGam, GinoZhiv, SashaIan, and others.
1. Awakening

The wind over Durem had an unusually ominous blow to it on the clear October night

The wind over Durem had an unusually ominous blow to it on the clear October night. Below the streetlights and under roofs the Gaians slept without a second thought as to who (or what) was roaming their streets at night. Little did they know that two opposing masked forces- "Alucard" and "The Gemini"- had their meetings here, which would inevitably shake Gaia and reawaken the powers of "The Masque".

"_You're looking pleasant tonight," Alucard hissed, a sneer present in his voice. The Gemini scoffed at him, turning his head away. "Bah!"_

"_Cheerful as always, Wesley." That made The Gemini flinch, he hated that Alucard, his enemy, was one of the few people who understood his identity. "As are you, vampire."_

_The two stood atop lampposts, no more than fifteen feet apart, at the moment staring each other down. Though they both knew this intimidation technique usually worked The Gemini faltered his eyes away, after his Common Sense hit him, screaming about a vampire's hypnotic eyes. As he looked away, Alucard threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, Wesley, you senile old man," he howled, "Sometimes you're just so pathetic!"_

"_Stop that!" The Gemini snapped back, "You know only pure and half-vampires are immune to The Eye of Nosferatu! And I'm neither." Alucard crooked a finger at him, "Come here and I'll make you a pretty little vampire."_

"_I'd sooner die than become a slave to your will, Alucard!" The Gemini shouted softly, drawing his rapier, Aimer le Sacrifice _(Love Sacrifice).

"_Have it your way, Wesley!" Alucard called, his nails extending into vicious talons. "Enough chit-chat, let's fight!"_

_And at once the charged at each other, rapier versus talons, Man versus Vampire, in a dazzling array of metal and claw and blood, erupting onto the streets of Durem._

Gino sat up in his bed, grasping his sheets, which were covered in a cold sweat. A moment later, his door burst in and Johny and Edmund rushed in. Johny looked around in a sort of hard panic, then, after closely examining the room, relaxed slightly, but glared at Gino. "Why were you screaming? We thought you were attacked by some_thing_! But there's no_thing_ here!" Normally his father's emphasis on the word _thing_ would have seemed racially biased to Gino, but now he was too fixed on Edmund, who stood half-exposed behind his father, arms behind his back, mouth twisted in the usual scowl. "Y-you!" Gino called, crawling from his bed and grabbing Edmund by the collar of his robe, "_You're _the one from my dream, T-The Gemini!"

Edmund raised a brow at the boy, "I have no idea what you mean, Gino. Stop talking nonsense and go to bed like a good child." However, Gino persisted to shake the older man, "No, I won't! You know who you are, _what_ you are! Your blood is on the streets of Durem! You tried to kill some 'Alucard' fellow with your Rapier! You have a Dual Gemini Mask hidden somewhere in yours and Father's room I know it!"

"Gino!" The young Gambino immediately stopped shaking him when the older man's voice stiffened. "I will_ not_ baby you! You may be the son of my oldest friend and lover, but I _will_ use force on you." As if to give a demonstration, Edmund ripped Gino's hands from his own robe and pinned them against the wall. "It is four o' clock in the morning, Gino! If you can't tell the difference between your silly dreams and reality, perhaps your father and I should consider sending you to a psychiatric facility! Do you understand?" Gino gave a weak nod, and Edmund let his wrists go, flinging Gino towards the bed. Gino stumbled backwards and his head banged against one of the bed's baseboards. He rubbed his head and watched his two fathers leave, shutting the door quietly behind them

After they left, he shook his head, sighing, "He's right, there must be something wrong with me. But, what?" He sat up and leaned back against his bed, closing his eyes and attempting to collect his thoughts. It occurred to him that maybe the union between his half-brother, Damian Von Helson, and Gino's own former lover, Sasha, might have triggered his insanity.

Sasha and Ian's wedding day, which had been in late August, had occurred after they announced they were expecting. A tiny wedding with white roses and Sasha's gown was white, white, pure, like she was, and her stomach was swollen with _his_ baby instead of Gino's. It _should_ have been Gino's baby, but, _no_, that little…That _little whore!_

Gino slapped himself across the face. For God's sake, he _loved _her.

After a few hours of attempted sleep, it was six in the morning, and Gino couldn't take it anymore. He slipped into his casual (though many would refer to it as formal wear on just about anyone else) apparel, and stopped at his mirror to fulfill his strange urge to tie his hair back into a ponytail.

He crept out of his room and down the hall. He stopped right beside his fathers' room, and peeked inside the open door. He sighed in relief at the sight and Johny and Edmund fast asleep, embracing each other tightly. Gino couldn't help but envy them a little. He wondered what it was like to be embraced, seeing as how he lacked such simple things from his mother _and_ his father.

He raced down the long stairway, out the door into the early-morning mist and towards the shore of Isle de Gambino. He knew how early it was, but he had to find out what was wrong with him.

* * *

The first rays of Gaia's own star, Pontus, were rising in the west when Gino stepped onto the porch of the home shared by Ian and Sasha. _And soon, their little brat_ Gino shivered. He knocked on the door hard, repeatedly until a groggy Ian opened the door. "Gino..?" he groaned, his hair a nest and his eyes barely open, "What do you want?"

"I need to see her," Gino said, not emotion, but rather pure need arising in his voice.

"She's sleeping, Gino, come back later." Ian tried to close the door, but Gino caught it, and flung the door open so hard it broke off. The door clattered to the ground and Gino and Ian gapped at it in shock. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to!" Gino stuttered. Ian sighed, glanced from Gino to the door and back again, then said, "Come in, just be quiet damn it!"

"But the door-!"

"I'll fix that later."

Reluctantly, Gino stepped inside and followed Ian to the bedroom, where Sasha lie, still asleep.

Now seven months along, her stomach was beautifully swollen and she had a kind of glow about her. Gino sat down on the bed next to her, gently and happily stroking her cheek, which was softer than ever. He didn't care that the broken door was the first sign of his reawakened powers or newly awakened madness.


	2. Horror

2.)

"_It appears he is catching on, eh, Wesley?"_

"_Indeed."_

"_What are we going to do about him? Kill him?"_

"_That won't be necessary; he'll be locked up in due time. He's going crazy, vampire, and his father and I are going to decide what's best for him, and what's best is locking his up in a white, padded room where he can't hurt himself or others."_

_Alucard chuckled in his throat, "What a shame, putting away the pure, juicy white meat in some room where it'll turn to jerky. C'mon, Wesley, lemme have just one taste of him, see if he likes it!" _

"_You'll only deteriorate his delicate psyche further!"_

"_You sure know a lot of big words, don't you? Alright then, what do you suppose I do?"_

"_Alright, fine. Listen to me, and you might be able to get close to him, but only for a single night. Promise to uphold your word?"_

"_Yes, yes, I promise! Just tell me what to do!"_

"_Alright. In three days, he'll be out after attending a baby shower; I'll make sure he stays out past dark…"_

"Gino? Wake up; it's time to wake up now." Gino groaned, stirring and looking up into Sasha's large brown eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm up." He smiled at her and wobbled to his feet beside the bed.

"You feel asleep kneeling beside the bed, you're so silly sometimes, Gino." Sasha reached up and petted the top of his head as if he were a small child. He liked the attention so he kneeled slightly rolling his head back so she would scratch his ears. _Ah, that's so nice, _he thought, _so that's why Coco and Kiki Kitties love having their ears scratched. _As if sticking with the cat theme, he let a purr escape his throat, and nuzzled Sasha's shoulder. It was almost as if he were in a dreamland; a perfect place where he could always be happy. He felt so very warm.

However, as is the case with every dream, one must eventually wake up. Poor Gino awoke from his dream into his nightmare. Ian leaned over and whispered in his ear, "_Get off of my wife, or I'll suck every last drop of blood from your veins..._" Gino probably would have preferred dying to leaving Sasha's side, but he moved away from the bed, forcing Ian to back off.

He headed to the door but stopped at the sound of Sasha's voice. "Gino? Ian and I are having a baby shower in the 24th, that's three days from now. Do you think you can make it?"

After a moment of thought, Gino turned and flashed them that famous Gambino smile, "Of course I'll come!" Sasha, overjoyed, scurried about rummaging through random things until she found what she was looking for. She pulled a small 4x7 envelope from a cardboard box and handed it to Gino. "Everything you need to know is in here. Can you ask and see if Edmund and your dad can come too? That way everyone'd be there."

"Of course I'll ask them, but I can't make any promises."

"Yeah, I know how busy they are…What, with their union coming up and all…"

_Ah yes, Their Union_, the voice inside Gino's head hissed. _It's bad enough Edmund turned Father into a faggot, now they have to flaunt it? _Naturally, he kept his thoughts to himself, and, instead of saying what he felt, laughed. "Yeah, their room is so messy with wedding plans, I tell you! Edmund said he only wanted a small civil union but Dad insisted. You know Dad; for him it's 'Go big or go home'!"

Sasha giggled and Ian smiled, wrapping his arm around her waist, "Yes, we know. Just be sure to Private Message us if anything comes up, alright?"

In his mind, Gino scowled, _way to pull an about-face, you asshole._ "Of course I will."

* * *

The next three days were especially tedious and aggravating to the three in the Gambino mansion. That first day, after arriving home to find his fathers making love on the couch, Gino exploded. He let his temper flare from tiny inward sparks to a raging mountain fire, spitting curses and demeaning and homophobic slur. He wasn't sure how it happened, he _was_ sure he could handle his temper better. They hadn't spoken to each other the rest of that day, and barely a "Good morning" was whispered on the second day, the day when Gino opened his envelope, revealing a pink card, which made the sex of the baby quite obvious. When he finished, he coyly handed it off to Edmund.

That second night, Edmund put down his usual reading and picked up the card. He nearly choked on his tea when he saw the date for the occasion. He grabbed Johny from their bed and read him the simple card aloud:

Greeting, there!

You have been invited to attend the baby shower of Ian and Sasha Von Helson.

Date: 10-24-09

Time: 4:00-6:00 P.M. GST

Please Private Message us in advance if you cannot attend.

Sincerely,

Ian & Sasha.

"We have to send them a message, you know what tomorrow is, Johny." Johny nodded, and pulled Edmund close to him, inhaling the scent of his hair and rubbing his back. "I know, Edmund, I know." After a few moments of embrace they pulled apart, and Edmund grabbed his laptop, typing swiftly in an attempt to get the message there:

Username: NPC Ian

Subject: Declining your invitation

Message:

"Ian, Sasha, I regret to inform you that Johny and I will not be able to attend the shower for your child. We deeply apologize, but, tomorrow is the anniversary of Rosalie's death, and it would be too painful. We're truly sorry, and wish we could attend.

We will send our blessings along with Gino.

Sincerely, Edmund and Johny."

The _ping_ of the laptop confirmed that his message would be known. Edmund closed his laptop and set it aside. His hopes of getting back to his reading were short lived, as Johny scooped him up in his arms. Sighing, Edmund wrapped his arms around Johny's neck, and settled into his lover's. They kissed, once, gently. However, feeling the tension of the previous day made anything more than a kiss seem awkward.

Johny fidgeted slightly, saying, "What are we going to do about Gino?" Edmund got on his knees and buried his face in Johny's thick neck, kissing his jugular roughly. He wanted to avoid Gino in every form: Avoid him physically, mentally, emotionally, and in conversation. That little brat had no respect for his elders. If it were up to Edmund, Gino would have been thrown out of the house for his slander. Nevertheless, it wasn't; this was still Johny's home, no matter what, and Edmund respected his authority. "I don't know."

* * *

After spending hours fixing his hair and clothes, Gino headed out, stopping only to ask his fathers if they were attending the shower. After accepting their decline, Gino shrugged and headed out on his own, a pink box tucked tightly under his arm.

* * *

The shower came and went, the few hours seeming like only a few minutes. Ian and Sasha had invited Rina (who had dragged Leon there), Agatha (who dragged Logan there), Moira (who dragged Vanessa there), and Gino…who wasn't dragged at all.

When the gifts came to be opened, Logan bragged about the crib he supposedly made, but Agatha whacked him upside the head, reminding him he'd built it years ago, when they themselves were together and expecting a child. This intrigued the curiosity of the other women, who gathered around Agatha and asked her to tell them the story. Agatha refused, saying the memory was too painful, but the girls insisted. At that point, Ian grabbed Gino by the arm and brought him aside. "Gino, umm, well," Ian was flushed. "Sasha and I would like- if it isn't too much trouble-for you to maybe help clean up afterwards?"

"It's no trouble at all." Gino may have hated Ian, but he didn't like the idea of Sasha having to work too hard cleaning up because of the baby. So, after everyone else left, Gino stayed behind, sweeping, picking up, and generally helping clean up.

What really intrigued him was earlier, when the girls had pushed Agatha into telling about her baby. She had fidgeted and folded her hands, settling them into her lap. Then she spun a tale about a young jewelry appraiser and her lover, an angler. She told how she had been in love with Logan, so much that they had made a child together. However, the child had been stillborn, and she and her angler gradually faded apart. She put her hands on Sasha's and squeezed them. "You and Ian, you two promise me you'll stay together and face your problems as a couple, and promise to raise your baby right."

Crying gently, Sasha bit her lip and nodded. "We promise."

* * *

"Thank you for the help, Gino!" Sasha hugged him tightly, squeezing the air out of him. God, she was strong for a pregnant woman! "I-it's no problem!" Gino gasped as she let him go. He stroked her cheek and rustled her hair, "Get to bed, Sasha, it's late."

Sasha pouted and turned away, "_Humph! _You're starting to sound like Ian!"

"I-I'm sorry!" he blurted. She relaxed and winked at him. "Oh Gino, stop being so serious all the time! I'd swear you were Edmund's son instead of Johny's!" He smiled, _that fag? Are you fucking serious you whore?_

* * *

As soon as he was out of sight of Ian's and Sasha' home, he pounded his head against the nearest brick building. _Idiot! You fucking idiot, you stupid, motherfucking idiot! How could you think that! You still love her you bastard! Son-of-a-bitch! _The banging slowed to a stop, and he stared at the small blood imprint left on the wall. Breathing heavily, he looked around, sighing with relief when he did not see anyone.

But just because one is not visible does not mean one is not there. A sharp, low hiss startled him and his violet eyes darted upward to meet the yellow, cat-like ones of a fierce-looking silhouette. The figure jumped and, seemingly effortlessly, ran down the wall. A flash of silver told Gino to move. His legs obeyed. Barely.

He fell back into the street, which was, luckily, abandoned. His whole body shook in fear. _**Get up, coward**_his mind called. _**Give me control**_

'_Who are you?_' Gino asked himself.

_**I am what is keeping you alive, silly boy. I have been here since your old man so viciously violated your body. Remember, you tried to kill yourself? I am that voice that told you 'Don't jump!'…Remember now?**_

'_Yes._'

"Gino" stood, cricking his neck. "**You have some nerve, you bastard. Attacking **_**me.**_** I don't know who you think you are, but you're **_**dead**_** now.**"

The figure was oblivious to "Gino"'s taunts, and extended his hand, as if to say 'Bring it, boy'. "Gino" charged him; fist raised, and attempted an uppercut. But his foe was too quick, and darted back into an alleyway. "Come get me."

"Gino" followed, and then he got his first glance at his foe. The alleyway was surprisingly well lit; better so than the actual street. Inside, the real Gino gasped and choked, _no_._ It's him; "The Gemini", from my dream._ Before him, The Gemini stood tall, unfaltering. He was dressed in sleek onyx from head to toe, his Nitemare Scarf stood out most, swaying ominously even though there was no breeze. The small amount of brown hair Gino could see was slicked back, Refined Style. And to top it off, as if his trademark, he wore a Dual Gemini Mask. _**You aren't scared of the boogeyman, are you?**__ "No, sir." __**That's a good boy. Now shut it and let me get rid of this fool. **_

"**So you're Wesley?**" the blonde called to his counterpart. "**I suppose little Gino was right about the Mask in your bedroom, huh, Edmund?" **The Gemini scoffed, shook his head. He pointed his rapier to Gino, "I am not who you say I am. I am but a humble hero, trying to rid this world of an ungodly injustice."

"**You're all talk old man! Put some actions to those words!**" "Gino" stood straight up, arms at his sides idly. _What are you doing? We're going to get killed!_ Gino screamed to his current outward persona. _**Shut it, brat! This guy's as good as **__**dead**_. Gino gulped, and sat back inside his body, unable to do anything else. He watched as The Gemini ran to them, his body curving and twisting to such a professional degree that Gino gently whispered a prayer to his mother in heaven. He knew he was done for. But then, after finishing his prayer, he glanced up, and gasped. In his hand was The Gemini's face; his other self had somehow reached under The Gemini's mask, and, without removing the mask, grabbed him.

Gino watched in horror as his other self took The Gemini's head and, holding a steady grip, began to repeatedly bang the back of The Gemini's head against the corner of the brick building behind them. The Gemini had dropped his rapier and was trying to pry Gino's hand from his face. _Good luck with that._

Blood formed on the wall's corner and slowly The Gemini's grasp on Gino's hand faded; his hands fell to his sides. _What's wrong with you? Don't kill him! He didn't do anything to deserve to die! _Still, Gino's other half didn't stop. He viciously, relentlessly pounded his foe's head against the hard, unforgiving bricks, until Gino and his darker half heard a blood-curling _crack._

"Gino" released The Gemini's head, and, unintentionally, The Gemini's mask stayed on Gino's arm. To the ground slunk Edmund, his face shocked, horrified, and blood-stained.


	3. Hopeless

A/N: Hi! Sorry this chapter took so long. As you can see, it's fairly long. -nervous laugh-

I really don't like this chapter because it seems OOC, and I let my personal theories play too big a part in this. While I have dismissed the idea of Vanessa & Edmund being related, the rest of my theories still stand in my mind. If there are any grammar or spelling mistake, you don't have to point them out; I scan my fics at least a hundred times and I'll come across it sooner or later.

* * *

3.)

Johnny Gambino grunted and settled back under the sheets of his bed. Edmund still wasn't home, even though he'd been gone for a little over four hours. He'd said he only had some quick business to take care of, so he should've been back by now…Right?

Johnny rubbed his temple and sighed; could Edmund be cheating on him? And just a little over two months before their union day? No, that couldn't be. It just wasn't in character for Edmund to be unfaithful. Johnny grabbed the remote from the side table and turned the TV on to the news. Maybe he could numb himself a little with other peoples' miseries.

Cindy Donovinh, in her standard grey suit, was standing in front of Aekea's St. Roberto General Hospital. Clearing her throat, she spoke softly into her microphone. "Behind me is the General Hospital where Edmund, the owner and manager of _H.R. Wesley_, was dumped around 8:30 P.M. tonight. Not much information was released, but we have gotten word he is in critical condition and under intensive care. He apparently suffered from several severe concussions to the back of the skull, and got out of surgery less than an hour ago.

"Witnesses say he was left on the front step by a relatively young Gaian with long, blonde hair. But they were not able to provide enough information for a sketch artist. We will report to you any more information as it develops."

Johnny stared at the television for a moment before he realized he had subconsciously turned it off. He body shook uncontrollably and tears welled in the corners of his eyes. "_Edmund?_" he squeaked.

Without a second thought, he grabbed his clothes and quickly dressed. He rushed out of his mansion, not bothering to lock up, and ran to the nearest Warp Gate.

* * *

Pushing past people he didn't know or care about, Johnny slunk into the hospital, and rested his head on the receptionist's desk, panting slightly. He looked up at her, his eyes desperate. She has green Boyish hair, and Onyx Skull Earrings. God, what was wrong with these people?

"May I help you?" At least she had a sweet sounding voice. Inhaling deeply, Johnny stood up straight and tried to keep a professional image. "I'm here to see Edmund. I heard that he was in an accident of some kind."

"Oh no sir. From what I hear the wounds were deliberate. I heard they might've been self-inflicted." Johnny's heart jumped. _Self-inflicted? Was he trying to commit suicide? Why; did I do something wrong?_ "Anyway, you can't see him. He isn't allowed any visitors aside from family and those granted permission _by_ family."

He grabbed her by the collar of her cheap scrubs. His nostrils flared and his eye twitched. "Listen to me, you little bitch. He's my _husband_; I don't _need_ anyone's permission to see him!"

"Sir. Here in Aekea we don't recognize domestic partnerships. You'll have to get consent from a family member to see him. He's in a horrible state, and we can't let just anyone in."

He released her collar and stumbled back, hitting the wall limply. He slammed his head back against the wall. "It's all my fault…" he breathed. After a few moments he regained his posture and went to the payphone in the corner by the doorway. He put in his fifty gold for two minutes and dialed Vanessa's number. He held his breath, and hoped she'd answer. After five rings, he lost all hope, but sure enough, she answered. "Johnny? Why are you calling? What about Edmund?"

Johnny bit his lip. "Then I guess you've seen the news report too then, huh? I-I don't know, they won't let me in to see him without your permission."

"What? But you two are, like, engaged!"

"They don't care, the homophobic bastards. Please, just say I can visit him. I need to. _Please, Vanessa, I'm desperate._"

How could she argue with the man who made her brother happy? She talked to the doctors via the phone, identified herself as Edmund's sister, his only living family, and gave full consent for Gambino to see her brother. His doctors disapproved, but, since he posed no danger to Edmund and he had full consent, they had to let him in.

He was hooked up to a heart monitor, which was connected to wires running into his arm. There was a ventilator tube in his throat, and his forehead was heavily bandaged. The blonde man kneeled next to his lover, put Edmund's hand between his own. He could feel the IV and Edmund's weak pulse. He sighed, running his lover's hand across his face. He laid Edmund's hand beside him on the bed, leaned over and held the side of his head, breathing in the scent of his hair. He still smelled like Edmund, but, barely.

Johnny rested his head on Edmund's chest, listening to the quiet beating of his heart. "Why you, Edmund? Why you?" A tap on his shoulder startled him. Defensively, Johnny spun around and smacked one of Edmund's doctors hard across the face. The doctor, taken aback, stumbled slightly and adjusted his jaw. "Aw, Mr.Gambino, vigorous as always I see." Johnny chuckled wryly, then scratched his chin and nodded. "So, well, how is he?"

The doctor sighed. His graying hair and hard feature made it obvious he'd handled much stress in his life. He seemed vexed; like he could not get the right words out. After contemplating a few moments, he coughed and spoke. "He is comatose, no doubt. He doesn't react to pain or light. He moved, once, twitched a little, after the surgery, but it wasn't a voluntary motion."

"Can you tell when he'll wake up?"

"I wish I could, Mr.Gambino. He could wake up tomorrow, next week, next month, next year. He may not wake up at all; his condition could worsen until he's in a vegetative state or until he's dead. We have to observe him further, so we can tell the full extent of his injuries, test his blood pressure, brain activity, etcetera, and judge him on the GCS scale to…"

"GCS scale?"

"Glasgow Coma Scale; it's used to measure the severity of a coma patient's condition. Mr. Wesley is certainly not the worse comatose patient I've ever seen- far from it- but that does not make his condition any less fatal."

Johnny clutched Edmund close to him, careful not to rip out any wires or tubes. He kissed his lover on the neck and cheek with unparalleled passion. He ground his teeth, choking on his feelings of hatred. Whoever did this to Edmund, _his _Edmund, was going to pay dearly, if not with their life. He let a sob escape him, and he broke down, bringing himself as close to Edmund's body as possible, burying his face in the other's brown hair. "Y-You said he might die, right? Or become a vegetable? That's not going to happen; he's too strong for that to happen!"

"Sir, you must realize, it's medical factors that decide his outcome more than his actual will. Especially if the wounds _were_ self-inflicted, and he has no desire to live."

"No, no, he wouldn't! He promised he wouldn't leave me alone after Rosalie died…He promised…He wouldn't kill himself…"

"You seem so sure, how do you know he wasn't harboring his depression inside as to not worry you?"

"He wouldn't-"

"Don't take it personally, Mr. Gambino, but you aren't the kind of person one could confide in."

"He loves me…We're getting _married_… He wouldn't kill himself…" His body numbed at the thought that Edmund didn't care for him enough to live and tell him his problems. He grabbed his chest; his heart felt so heavy all of a sudden. He limply put Edmund's body back on the bed and flopped down in the chair next to his bed, doubling over and hugging his own body. "I need to be alone with him. Just, please, for goodness' sake, leave us alone."

The doctor, who was formally Markov Hein Gail, left them be, gently closing the door to the ICU room. He was greeted by his personal assistant, a medical graduate student named Mika Lin Coon. She was a strong built girl with hair a Lolita only dreams of. She curtsied to him in a polite gesture to her elder. "Is he going to be okay?

Markov shook his head. "The extent of his injuries is deep; no way were those wounds self-inflicted. No mortal man could do that to his own body. He's a 5 on the GCS, and he has a very slim chance of recovery."

"How did Mr. Gambino react to the news?"

"I didn't tell him the truth; he would have thrown himself out the window."

"Honestly doctor, what are his chances?"

"Mika, I'd say one in 1,000,000."

* * *

Gino couldn't stop running. He had to get away from the hospital where he dumped Edmund. Edmund was a strong man; he'd be fine, right?

Gino ran long after when his legs ached from the lactic acid; long after his lungs felt they would burst; long after the chilly night wind had numbed his face. He couldn't be caught near that hospital; he couldn't be fingered as Edmund's murderer. He just _couldn't_. He finally slowed to a stop, bracing himself on a streetlight, allowing his lungs to taste sweet oxygen again. After a few minutes of thought he came to the conclusion that nothing had occurred, that this whole night was one bad dream. Edmund was alive, probably having rough sex with his father right now. He chuckled, no emotion in his voice (except perhaps, a dab of panic).

He slid down the pole, sighing in relief. He was glad he could relax until he woke up from this nightmare. No such plan had been decided for him by Fate, and a pair of pale bronze hands creeped from the darkness, constricting themselves over Gino's mouth. "Don't scream," hissed a pair of tiny moons from the darkness. "I won't hurt you."

Gino knew that voice; his eyes widened. _Please, not __**him**_. He grabbed the other's hands and tried to pry them away, squirming and wriggling furiously to get loose. "Don't fight, little Gino. I saw what you did to Wesley."

Gino froze; tears welled in the corners of his eyes. _It wasn't a dream after all._ "What do you want from me?" His voice was muffled, but understandable. Out popped Zhivago's head from the dark. He let his long, pointed tongue slip from his mouth onto the back of the blonde's neck. He lapped at it, being sure to leave a wet trail behind him. "I want _you_ of course." He let Gino pull free of his grasp; let him stumble up the pole and onto the sidewalk. Hesitating, Gino ran his hand over the back of his neck, cringing as he felt what Zhivago left behind. "What is wrong with you? I feel so, _violated_."

A breeze of wind brought the vampire to the blonde; Zhivago wrapped his arms around Gino, only this time at his waist. He reached in the back of Gino's pants and stroked his bare rear end. "Oh, I'll violate you." He stuck two fingers in the blonde and pumped, soaking in the other's groans. "Stop it, Zhivago…"

"I could, but I think you'd prefer this to jail. If I tell the police what I saw you'd be locked up for quite a while, _especially_ if Wesley dies. And considering how many enemies your old man has made, you wouldn't last very long in a steel cage." He pulled the blonde close to his body, pumped harder. Gino was dry, tight, and Zhivago's talons made his insides bleed. He clung to his other; what else could he do? _Help me, please! __**Sorry kid, I'm pooped. Besides, the creep's got a point. Just go with it. This isn't the first time this has happened to you, after all. **_

Zhivago pulled his fingers out, licked the blood away from his claws. "If you'd be so kind as to follow me to my nest, we can finish our fun." He loosened his bind from Gino, and began walking toward the less populated side of Aekea. "Aren't you coming, little Gino?"

In his mind, he knew if he didn't follow the vampire, fulfill his wishes, it'd be more trouble than it was worth. He followed his platinum-haired other reluctantly; he knew all too well what would happen next.

* * *

Markov had done something that he'd never dare to do before in his career. He'd left a comatose patient alone for more than eight hours on or off duty. In the entire five years since this hospital had been established he had not once committed this sin, but he knew the lovers needed to be alone.

At nine in the morning he came back into work, expecting to find Edmund's bedside empty; hoping Mr. Gambino had gone home to get some sleep. God knows it's been a long night for him. Instead, he found Mr. Gambino kneeling by the bed, sleeping, his head resting on Edmund's hand. He looked a mess, even more so than the previous night. Markov called out to him, and his head shot up. "Edmund?" he cried out, but once his eyes rested on the hollow body of his lover, his shoulders slumped, his head fell. "Is he dead?"

Markov smiled slightly, and put his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "No, Mr. Gambino, he isn't dead. In fact, after running some tests, I've found he has a good chance of recovering." He hated lying, but he hated seeing the family of his patients suffer even more. Edmund was dead to the world now, but soon he'd really be dead; he wouldn't feel any more pain. Johnny lurched, his body shaking from head to toe. "No, he's dead. I know he's dead; if he weren't dead he'd wake up when I asked for my morning kiss…It's been our tradition for sixteen years. Every morning when we wake up…He wouldn't give that up, ever. Not unless he was dead. He's dead; my Edmund is dead." The shaking had stopped, and Johnny looked so empty it scared the doctor. This change in attitude was so sudden and dramatic that Markov wondered which one of them was really depressed.

"I want to be with him." Well, that settled that. "I just want to be with him, wherever he is."

"Mr. Gambino, surely there's a better solution than that! Suicide will not bring Edmund back; please just go home, get some sleep and think this over again. "

Johnny stood, and Markov realized how much the multi-millionaire towered over him. He brushed past Markov without so much as a single word. Markov stood, silent, still as death, and he could have sworn he heard sobbing outside the door. That was a silly; Gaia's most powerful man crying. Then again, he'd seen the strongest of men break under pressure or trauma. And this could definitely be considered strong psychological trauma. All he could do is shake his head and check the vitals on his patient.

* * *

Gino awoke to the sunlight spraying his face through heavy black velvet curtains. He groaned, and tossed away from the light, hitting his partner with his loose arm. Gasping, he withdrew his arm from Zhivago's face and curled up in a ball. His memories of the previous night were blurred, but the soreness in his rear and throat provided a few theories. Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around him, unfurling him, and drawing him to Zhivago's cold chest. The vampire breathed on his neck, and Gino felt a stinging pain. His moved his hand up to the side of his neck, and felt tiny pin-sized holes. His eyes flew open and his mouth gapped slightly. "No you've…You've…"

"I've made you mine," Gino's silver-haired lover purred. "I've marked you, so you're my mate for eternity." He rubbed his crotch against Gino's stomach, making the blonde gasp and moan. "I wish I could put something inside you, though." He brought his lips to Gino's ear, pushing aside a lock of hair. "We'd make beautiful children together."

"C-children?" The very idea of conception fascinated him, but not when it involved the child growing inside himself. He shivered, making Zhivago grasp him tighter. "Yes, lots of them," he cooed, in an attempt to soothe his lover. It didn't work.

Gino managed to wriggle from the vice of the silver-hair's arms, and onto the floor. He fell with a hard thump and looked up at the vampire, whose eyes were filled with a mix of fear and pity. He quickly gathered Gino's scattered clothes from the opposite side of the room and tossed them to the boy on the floor. Shocked, Gino quickly dressed. "Why'd you do that?" he asked after a moment. "Aren't you going to keep me here?"

Zhivago sat on the edge of the bed opposite Gino and shook his head. "Get out of here, kid." He stretched his arms and fell onto the bed, leaning his head back far enough to look at Gino. He winked. "Just come around once in a while if you need a good time. Or someone to save your butt, which, by the way, is adorable."

Gino scrambled to his feet and fled. Halfway through his run, heard the previous night's deep voice yawning in his head, which made him screech to a halt. _**Mornin'**_, it said. He bit his cheek; how could he just abandon him like that? "Why did you do that? I needed you!" _**Listen, brat, I get tired too. I told you before, it's not like it's never happened to you before. What, with that dirty old man of yours-**_ "Stop, stop, stop!" Gino pounded his fists against the sides of his head, "Just shut up! I don't want to relive that day! I don't, I don't want to!" He thrust his fist outward, and, without intending to, punched Ian square in the face. Ian stumbled backwards and fell, holding his rather red cheek. "Ah, god, it's good to see you too, Gino!"

"I'm sorry Ian! I-I didn't see you there. I was distracted I guess…" Ian got up and shrugged; the red in his cheeks already fading back to ivory. "Ah, it's okay, I was in a hurry too. Glad I ran into you, actually."

"Why, what's the matter? Where's Sasha?"

Ian sighed. "That's just it; she went into labor this morning."

"_This early?_ She's only seven months along!"

"I know, I know. They had to give her something to keep her from giving birth, and they put her on bed rest until her due date. I'm so scared, Gino. What if something happens? And the baby…or Sasha. I can't live without them, Gino!" He put his face in his hands, and that mess of black hair flopped around the sides of his head. "Hey, man, it's okay. They'll be fine, I promise." Gino put his hand on Ian's back and rubbed in circles. "Sasha's a tough woman, and she's healthy, too. There really isn't any reason for her not to be well. It was probably just the stress from yesterday, that's all. Rest is all she needs."

"Think so?"

"I know so; it's gonna be just fine. You know, you should be there with her at the hospital."

Suddenly, Ian gasped, "Now I remember why I came to look for you! Did you hear about Edmund?"

Gino's heart skipped, "N-No! No! Why, what happened?"

"Some jackass brutalized him and now he's in a coma!"

"A-A coma!" _I wasn't _that_ rough, was I?_ "D-does anyone know who did it?"

"The cops think it's whoever dumped his body at the hospital. But so far witnesses can't I.D. him. I doubt the bastard will get away with it considering how well-loved Edmund is."

"Mmm, yeah, sure."

"Hey, Gino, somethin' up? You seem a bit out of it, man."

"No, honestly, I'm fine. I'm just shocked over Edmund and Sasha I guess. Listen, you really should go to her. Who will be there for her if not her own husband?"

"You have a good point there. You might want to go see Edmund in the hospital. I hear your father's there too. Mourning, you know?" Ian patted Gino on the rather roughly back, and started out to the hospital where Sasha was staying. It wasn't St. Roberto's Hospital, where Edmund lie cold and unresponsive, but, rather, a Barton-based maternal and pediatric clinic.

When Ian left, Gino dragged himself, not to the hospital where he'd dumped Edmund's body, but back home to his father's mansion. The door was left unlocked, so it was easy for him to get in. He lay down on the couch right inside the doorway, and, almost instantly, fell asleep.

_Two months later_

"Happy anniversary, baby." Johnny cooed at Edmund's hollow body. Today, on December 24th, Christmas Eve, was their 17-year anniversary. Also the day they were supposed to be married. Johnny had reserved a local chapel for the ceremony, and his own home had been prepared so as to bring his guests there for the reception. Then, for the honeymoon, Johnny was going to surprise Edmund by taking him to a private villa on their warm little island. "Come on, Edmund, it's time to wake up. You need to get dressed, so we can go to that church, and, you know, get married. Just like we've been planning for years. Everyone's waiting for us to get there; they're wasting their Christmas Eves for us." He kissed his brunette softly on the lips. "So get your lazy butt out of bed right now."

But there was no response. He watched as Edmund's hand twitched compulsively, involuntarily. Over the past two months Johnny had spent must of his time here, by Edmund's bedside, waiting anxiously for the moment he'd wake up. The rest of his time was spent in work on the wedding—which he insisted would still happen because his Edmund was so persistent—or on business. Though at the moment, business meant nothing to him. He'd give up his entire life to be with his Edmund again. At that thought, he gasped. That, he knew, could be easily arranged. And soon, his mind was contemplating the whats, whens, and wheres. He'd already made his will out, so it would all be fine. He clutched Edmund's hand, shook it. "It's okay, Ed. We'll be together again soon."

"Mr. Gambino?" Johnny glanced over, and saw Rina—with a bouquet of poinsettias almost as large as herself—standing beside a sans-armor Leon. They looked upset and were dressed in black clothes. "We came to see Daddy."

"You have no right," Johnny hissed back, "You never visited him before!"

"Mom never let us," Rina said, coy. "It's not our fault. Please, you have to let us see Daddy." She sobbed, openly letting the tears flow. "I miss him so much!"

Johnny paused. "…Why not?" He smiled gently at them and got up from his seat. And suddenly Rina was sitting by Edmund's bedside, hugging him. "Please wake up Daddy, everybody misses you!" The blonde man leaned against the wall of the doorway, watching Rina's failed attempts to awaken her Papa. _Doesn't she know it's useless? He isn't going to wake up. He's never going to wake up._

He looked up at the clock; it was an hour before visiting hours were up. The day was already over. The wedding wasn't going to happen after all.

And all at once, had their been a tiny bit of hope left in Johnny K. Gambino, it flushed itself from his body. Pushing past Rina, he loomed over his lover, and kissed his ear once, whispering "We'll be together again at Christmas, my darling." And he left, leaving Rina and Leon staring at his back as he left.

* * *

"Hey, Drama Llama, finally come in for a hair cut?"

Gino looked up at Moira from Vanessa's hair style catalog. He smiled at her, "Yeah. I'm surprised she's open on Christmas Eve. And that she's not busier." Moira shrugged, tugging the bao baos out of her hair. "Van just told everybody she wasn't doing carolers this year, that's why. Plus she told me she needs the extra hours, hence her working today."

"No carolers? Maybe she isn't as dumb as I thought she was."

Moira flicked his forehead, leaving a dull scratch mark. "Like the nails? Van did those, too." Gino rubbed his forehead, grunting. "You two have gotten pretty close since Edmund's accident."

She blushed, and winked over at Van, who also turned bright red. "I guess we have, huh? Well, we have more in common than most people realize."

"Aside from hating Liam until the end of time?"

"Yes, aside from that."

"Like what?"

"Hmm…" she put her chin in her palms, "I never really thought about it. Well, I discovered she was adopted, like me. Umm, we both enjoy S. Hito's classic works…"

"And…?"

"And pina coladas and getting caught in the rain! God, Gino, you're so nosy! I realize no one loves you but that doesn't give you any right to butt into my life!"

"Hey!" he stood up, pointing his finger in her face, "That isn't true! Lots of people adore me!"

"Then why can't you get a date? Could it be you look like a girl and most gals on Gaia don't want to look like lesbians?"

"I…um, I."

"Let me finish that for you: I can't get a date because I'm an anorexic prude who looks like a girl."

"Hey, hey, I am not a prude! And it's not my fault I'm fat." He pouted, crossing his arms at his stomach. "I could get a date if I tried! I just haven't found anyone I'm really interested in."

"What about that vampire guy with the silver hair?" Gino gave her a death stare, and she raised her hands defensively. "I'm just saying! He seems really into you, that's all."

"How the hell would you know?"

"He came in for a cut and a manicure once, and he never stopped talking about how 'beautiful and radiant' you are. And the whole time his face is as red as a Chinese paper lantern."

"Nice simile."

"Think so? Thanks. You gonna date him or not?"

"A-absolutely not!" Gino choked, "I will never give that _beast_ a chance! _Ever!_"

"Rawr; someone's in a pissy mood today. He's kind of cute; I say you should give him a chance."

"You bitch, what do you know? I am not a faggot! Besides, you don't have any taste in men; you can't even pick out a good one for yourself!" He went over to one of Vanessa's chairs and pushed her next waiting customer out, setting himself down. "I want you to cut it all off. _All_ of it."

Vanessa looked at Moira, who looked back at her, and they both looked at Gino. "_Well_," he hissed impatiently, "I'm waiting!" Vanessa shrugged and went to him, helping the discarded customer to his feet and assuring him he would be next. "How about Muttonchops for you, Gino? They'd look good on you."

"Whatever, bitch, just do it already!"

Another shrug and she started to cut off those long golden locks. With the buzz of the razor and the slick of hair gel, Gino no longer looked like Gino. He looked aristocratic and somewhat more sophisticated; professional. He paid her and left, hands in his pockets, face twisted in a scowl. "How dare she accuse me of looking like a girl?" "

"**Well, you do look like one, kid. Sorry to say it, but she **_**is**_** right."**

"Oh, shut your annoying trap. You only just reappeared a while ago, and you barely even talk to me."

"**And she's right about you being gay." **He stopped. _**Don't think I don't know your feelings. Why you really moved in with Liam; how you felt towards Ian; how you feel towards Zhivago; why you do not stop thinking about them.**_

"Let's go home…Umm, what's your name?"

_**It's Harper.**_ "That name suits you." _**Shut up, kid.**_

* * *

"Damn it's quiet in here." Gino murmured, scurrying through the mansion. "I mean, it's Christmas Eve; we should be throwing some big party and drinking and dancing. It's too quiet here; I really don't like it?"

"**That sounded like a question, kid. Do you like it or not?**"

"Well, I'm not really used to it. Dad's always booming or, well, busy with Edmund, that it's never really quiet around here."

"**Damn they're THAT loud?**"

"Shut up, pervert. Something doesn't feel right."

He ascended the stairs, and glanced down the two long hallways. Down the one to the left were the bedrooms, guest rooms, bathrooms, and down the other were offices, rec. rooms, and storage closets. To the left it was. He crept slowly, putting his ear to each door. At the door of the bathroom closest to his fathers' bedroom, he heard a light sloshing. He smiled and sighed; it was so quiet because his father was relaxing. He felt like he was imposing, but he knocked on the door anyway. "Dad? Hey, Dad, you okay in there?"

There was no reply, and Gino bit his nail. He knocked hard, "Dad! C'mon, Dad, this isn't funny anymore!" Something in the pit of his stomach knew something wasn't quite right. So, he kicked in the door. Well, Harper kicked in the door, but he did it in Gino's body. Gino gasped as the door came open, and again as looked up to see his father in the tub.

He ran to him and kneeled by the tub. He touched his father's neck, feeling a light pulse. "Shit," he grunted, getting his phone out, and dialing the emergency number as he examined the red-orange water. It had turned that color from blood that was probably from his father.

"Operator speaking, what is your emergency?"

Gino explained the situation, gave his location, and closed his phone. He tapped his father on the face, then slapped him, hard. "Dad!" Johnny's eyes opened a little, and he looked over at Gino, focusing hard on him. "Gino?" his voice was quiet and dry, "Gino, that you?" He smiled, "it is you. I'm glad you're here, son." He lifted his arm out of the tub, and Gino saw he was still clothed. He also saw the deep, heavily bleeding cut on his wrist. Johnny took Gino's hand in his own and shook it. "I'm glad you're here at the end."

"Dad, don't talk like that!" he squeezed his father's hand. "You can't give up now! Please, Dad, just don't!"

"Oh Gino, I've been depressed for so long. Since before you were born…I thought I was over it, but after your mother died, after I lost everything, after Edmund, I just…there's no hope left for me. You'll be glad to know I left you everything…" He leaned his head back against the tub and closed his eyes, sighing happily. "This is what I want."

"You're not thinking right, Dad! I don't care about the money or the power, I just need a father!"

And all at once, the ambulance rushed in, pushing Gino aside and lifting Johnny up onto a stretcher, shouting something about being careful of the blood. There was talking, shouting, pushing, and in a moment of absolute terror, Gino was all alone again. "**Hey kid.**"

"What, Harper?"

"**What the hell just happened?**"

"I'm not too sure."

* * *

A/N: I suppose I ended this on a cliff-hanger, huh? n-n;

So, anyway, just a few notes:

-"S. Hito" is short for "Sukinahito", which is the username of the lady who illustrates the Gaia manga, etc.

-Mika Linn Coon is a play on the real name of Racoonalinn, who founded the Edmund/Johnny K. Gambino fanthread.


	4. Revival

4.)

"You wanted to see me, Zhivago?"

The silver-haired vamp licked his chops, patted the couch cushion beside him. "I cleared all the evidence of what you did, Gino. Come, sit."

"What did you do, Zhivago?" He closed the front door behind him, and sat next to the darker colored man on the amber couch.

"I killed all the witnesses for you." He wrapped his arms around Gino's curved waist and licked his ear. "You really should thank me for it."

Gino felt a hand slip between his legs and rub the cloth over his crotch. "How about you suck it for me, Gino?" Before he knew what to think, he was pushed back onto the couch, and his clothes were ripped from his body. He felt Zhivago's rough lips pressing hard on his own, and that probing tongue in his mouth, exploring. He decided it was best to let Zhivago has his way, and not fight back. Best to keep his freedom on the outside, even if it meant Zhivago kept him imprisoned in this house.

He felt Zhivago nip his earlobe and roll the flesh between his teeth in a sensual way; Gino wasn't amused. "If you want it, say so. Stop wasting my time."

"Demanding, aren't you? Fine then, my little Island Princess, on your knees." He released the flesh and let Gino crawl onto the floor. He grabbed the sides of Gino's face tight, forcing his lips open. He stared down, his lips curled at the sides to reveal his long daggered fangs, his eyes glazed over black-and-yellow, so that Gino was paralyzed by them. "Come now princess, don't be afraid."

* * *

"_007, what is your status!"_

_He moaned, shaking his head. He couldn't answer; He could not find the words. He'd forgotten how to speak, and had lost His voice._

"_007, what is your status!"_

_The voice was louder. Whoever he was, he was getting angry. Yet the voice sounded familiar to Him; like the voice of His former Labtech superior, 089. He licked His lips and sighed. He fumbled over the words; the very syllables and pronunciations baffled Him. It seemed like an eternity since He'd used them, and they seemed to have all dried up, like the saliva in His mouth._

"_007 __**WHAT IS YOUR STATUS!**__"_

"_Functional, sir."_

_Had He really said those words? Those bleak, apathetic, automatic words; were they truly His?_

"_That is incorrect 007. You are not functioning; you are not even alive any longer. You are asleep, and you'd best get out of that sleep, lest the one you care for most dies."_

"…_Johnny?"_

"_Indeed. You know what he has done to himself over you? Of course not! For you have been a-sleep. And if you had not been a-sleep, you would have known what he has done to himself! Ha! You silly, impudent child, awaken now, or else I shall beat you further into you beloved a-sleep!"_

_But He could not let that happen! For The Blonde Man meant so much to Him, after all! Hadn't He promised to spend His whole life with The Man?_

"_The wedding," He cried, lifting His back off the bed and flailing His arms at His sides. "I can't be late for the wedding! I-!"_

* * *

Markov let out a long, drawn-out sigh. This morning he'd heard the news of Mr. Gambino's suicide attempt, and regretted not trying harder to stop him. What's worse is, upon examining the official report, he discovered that the pills that had been mixed with pure vodka were the OTC ones he himself had suggested to Mr. Gambino to help relieve some of the pain from his depression.

He was so deep in thought that he jumped with a start at the sound of gagging. He turned to his patient and saw his body convulsing uncontrollably. Markov pounded the red call button on the wall and shouted into the above speaker, "Request for several nurses and a dose of _buccal__midazolam_ to room 152 in western wing! Patient is experiencing severe seizures! Hurry, damn it!"

The doctor grabbed clean rubber gloves from the nearest bin and stretched them onto his hands. When two nurses arrived a moment later, one measured the syringe and the other held Edmund's mouth open. The doctor took the syringe and, as best he could, administered the drug into Edmund's cheek. After the syringe was withdrawn, his body gradually stopped shaking. Markov let go of his breath and patted the new, worked up nurses on their backs. He offered them a cup of coffee from the lounge and they all started for the door, but stopped dead at the low hiss of a dry voice:

"…Johnny?"

Slowly, very, very slowly, the doctor and his nurses turned to face the bed by the window. Their patient, pale, clammy, his lips chapped, his cheekbones sunk in farther, his hair almost white, looked at them. He sat up, his body twitching and joints cracking from lack of use. He rasped, choked, gagged; grabbed his throat and tugged at the breathing tube in it. Markov rushed to his side and pulled his hand away. "Mr. Wesley, Mr. Wesley! Relax, don't pull on that! Let the machine breathe for you for now. It's all okay, I promise!"

After several minutes of attempting to do just that, Edmund laid back, and let his lungs expand without his own effort. And within the hour the tube was removed and his throat was sewn up. Markov sat in the chair by his bed afterward, hands folded in his lap. "Mr. Wesley, there's something I must tell you." He waited a moment or two, and when Edmund didn't reply, he continued, "Mr. Gambino…well, he…attempted suicide two days ago." He felt a hand grab his wrist and squeeze, tight. He sighed and whispered, "It's okay sir, he's alive. Perhaps I can arrange for you to see him later."

Edmund sighed, and sat up, lowering his feet unto the floor. He wobbled onto them and let go of Markov's arm, limping out and bracing whatever he could on the way. Markov follow suite, slowly easing behind in case he fell. At the same time, he directed him cross the hospital to the room where his lover resided. He lowered himself into the chair, and ran his hand over Johnny's shoulder. He was sleeping soundly, his wrists bandaged and a blood drip in his arm. Edmund leaned over and kissed him square on the lips. His eyes flew open and he jolted into a sitting position, bumping heads with Edmund along the way and nearly knocking him out.

Johnny touched his lips and growled, "No one kisses me except my-" he looked down at Edmund on the floor and gasped. "Oh my God…" he sighed, "It must be true then; I am dead." He reached down with his IV-sans arm and touched Edmund's cheek. "How else could you be here, Edmund?"

"You aren't dead, Johnny," Edmund rasped, standing and kissing his lover again. "You're just sickly and weak." He coughed, "as am I." He pushed Johnny onto his back on the bed and stroked his hair.

"What's happened to you Edmund? You're so pale."

"And you aren't? Where do you get off, trying to kill yourself? You couldn't have held on another week?"

"I-I didn't think you were going to ever wake up."

"I'm awake now…aren't" he groaned heavily, and his eyelids sunk over his eyes "…I?" Slowly he leaned forward, as if seasick, and rested his head on Johnny's chest, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

He felt so hollow. As Gino sat upward on the couch, only in his dark lavender underwear, he felt empty. Zhivago was rubbing his shoulder and kissing him, whispering how much he loved him, how much he needed him, and it made Gino sick. "May I leave now? You got what you wanted, so may I please go?"

"Not just yet," Zhivago planted another kiss on his forehead and stood, leaving the room. In a moment he returned, rather gingerly, with a box. Gino recognized it as the kind that clothes were put in when they were bought at fancy department or costume stores. Zhivago set the box on his lap. "Open it," he squealed, putting a hand on Gino's thigh. "I think you'll like it."

Pushing a loose bang from his eyes, Gino lifted the lid from the box and removed the white tissue paper. He sat silently, looking down in that box. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

"No, no, Gino! Put it on, it will look wonderful on you!" Zhivago grabbed the ruffled sleeves of the article, and lifted it before his face. The dress was a deep wine color, with a white corset. There were also a pair of puffed bloomers and fancy silk stockings in the box. "Try them on," Zhivago hissed, his voice becoming greedy and lustful again. Gino sat, motionless, apathetic. How the hell was he supposed to react? "Should I be thankful, Zhivago?"

"You should, considering the money I spent to make you that dress."

"So you could make me look like a slut? Zhivago, I'm sick of this!" He threw the dress to the floor and stood, stomping it into the dirty wood. "I hate you!"

"Gino you don't know how much I care-"

"I'm sick of your lies! I'm sick of this blackmail, and most of all," he shoved a finger in Zhivago's face, "I'm sick and tired of **you!**" Zhivago grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him close. "Look into my eyes, **I dare you**." He let Gino go, who immediately reached for his clothes, only to be pinned against the wall. "I will **never** let you go," sneered Zhivago. "You are **mine! **Don't you dare think you can escape the truth!"

He forced him back onto the couch, pouncing. Then, without thinking, Gino grabbed the glass ashtray off the arm and whacked it over Zhivago's head.

* * *

This time the roles were reversed. Edmund reawakened with Johnny at his side, IV still in arm, and a tired, worried look about him. But they weren't alone; two men—one in a deep brown trench coat, the other a jacket-less suit—were sitting closest to the door. The jacket-less of the pair, miniscule compared to his hulking friend, nodded at Edmund, as if in some mutual approval. He buried his hand in one of the many pockets of his companion's coat, and took out a pen and notepad. "Hello sir. My name is Douglas Morrison, from the Durem Bureau of Assault and Murder Investigations —DBAMI— and I was wondering if you were up to answering some questions."

With a faint assent of the head, Edmund took the pad and paper, seeing as his voice did not wish to work. Morrison scooted his chair next to Johnny, who was reluctant to let go of his lover's hand. "By the way," Morrison said, gesturing with his hand at his companion, "the big lug over there is my partner, Cassidy Jones." Cassidy gave a grunt, to make sure no one mistook him for a wall, and then grew silent again.

"Now then, Mr. Wesley," said Morrison, clearing his throat. "I want you to know, in advance, that I'm only here to do my job. I won't hold anything against you—not your job, not your past, not your bisexuality, none of that. So, with that said, you don't need to worry about what I'll think just tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

"My first question: Where were you October 24th, 2009?"

Edmund scribbled on his notepad, "On the shore of the Isle de Gambino; I was taking the long way home after work."

"Home, Mr. Wesley? Your registry info says your residence is in Durem."

"I mean my other home. With Johnny. He gets lonely at night, you see, so I sleep over there."

"Yes, of course. Why did you decide to take the long way that evening?"

"I had a long day, and I thought I should clear my head before I head home to him. He has depression, and I don't need to worry him any more."

"Did anything happen around that time to make anyone want to kill or assault you?"

"Assault, you say? Was I raped?"

"No, not that any forensic tests can show. There was no sign of sexual trauma on you."

"Good, I like to save my body for my love. As for any unusual incidents, no. Nothing more than the usual pissy threats about my unfair prices. All of which are reported immediately. I'm sure you have them on file."

"I do. Anyway, do you remember encountering anyone that day about late teens, early twenties, with long blonde hair?"

"I see so many people fitting that description every day, detective; I could not pick one out from another."

"Oh, yes. Well then, Mr. Gambino, would you know anything of the incident."

"I'm sorry," Johnny shook his head, "but all I know is I'm glad to have my Edmund back. I wish I could be of better use but I have no clue."

"Of course, Mr. Gambino, it's alright. Now just a few mo-." A heavy vibrating in his pocket stopped Morrison mid-sentence. Out came his cell phone, which was answered and pressed to his ear. "Yes, it's me. Yes, yes. No, no. Wait, what? What! Oh gods, yes, yes, we'll be there as soon as possible!" He hung up his phone, shoved it in his pocket. "I'm terribly sorry; we'll have to finish this later. Thank you for your time, sirs. Cassidy, hurry up, we got a massacre going down in Aekea! They need all the help they can get!"

* * *

The blur of blood and of shrieks were muffled by his need to escape. He didn't care how many bodies he left in his wake while he escaped. His shoes splashed in blood puddles, his eyes clouded over watching his hands tear apart limbs. He tried to sob, to apologize, but his throat was clogged, filled like a tapeworm's haven.

Zhivago's blood had flown onto his body, and had triggered something inside of him, sending him to a paroxysm. It was like the fire in his stomach which had before risen and conquered at the sight of his fathers performing sodomy. Was it denial that made him rage so? Denial that he, too, may have wanted to be held and sodomized and treasured by a man? Was this violence an opposition to his usually meek and tender self?

When he stopped, pressed against a chip shop's wall, his torso, legs, arms, hands, face, neck, hips were splayed and sprayed crimson. He heard heavy footsteps, angry shouts, and sensed some sort of presence around him. Alert, but in no need to protect himself, Gino surrendered to this enemy, slipping to his hands, knees, at their feet. He felt cold metal bracelets click-click-click onto his wrists, and he was stood, sat in a car, as a man babbled away.

"…To remain silent…in a court of law…an attorney…you cannot…one will be…for you…These rights?"

"Yes, sir."


End file.
